


Ma'am, would you be so good as to cuddle with me?

by rosegoldoarl (orphan_account)



Series: Someone To You <3 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Exam Prep, Fluff, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stilinski Family Feels, i'm still shit at tagging, idek man, stiles and lydia arguing like a married couple lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rosegoldoarl
Summary: Lydia is stressing out over an important exam she has to take. And even though it was his house she’s currently sat at, cramming things she learned herself in Grade 8, she was this close to pulling out her hair in frustration at the boy with messy brown hair and whiskey coloured eyes, who had a tendency to go off on theories about how Star Wars should have ended.Yet this place felt like her home more than staying with her mother did, and Melissa McCall and Noah Stilinski were more like parents to her than Natalie Martin ever was. And that hurt, it hurt like hell.
Relationships: Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Someone To You <3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829194
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Ma'am, would you be so good as to cuddle with me?

**Author's Note:**

> *Set like after their panic attack kiss but before Stiles goes all hot and evil*
> 
> this one's really long and will probably have a continuation haha :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Love you <3

They were halfway through the second movie of Star Wars when Lydia’s face popped up on Stiles’ phone. 

“No,” Scott warned, prising the phone away from Stiles before he could pick up. 

“Ok,” 

Scott quirked up an eyebrow, mentally counting to three before Stiles babbled something out. 

3…

2…

1…

“But if we find her dead in a ditch tomorrow it’s going to be your fault buddy,” 

Scott thought for a minute.

“Touché” The phone was handed over, the phone was answered.

“Hey, Lyds,”

“I’m coming over. Have food ready,”

“Aww, yeah I’m doing good too! Thanks for asking,” Sarcasm dripped from Stiles’ voice, as Scott snickered into his popcorn. 

“What do I owe the wasting of my food for?” He enquired, leaning back on the sofa.

Stiles could practically hear Lydia’s eye roll from over the phone. 

“Who else is with you?” Her tone quirked up. 

“Why? Wanted it to be just us two?”

Pause.

Since when did he get so much confidence? It made Lydia feel a whole new level of weird. If she knew any better, she would have called the flutterings in her stomach butterflies, but she didn’t, and she refused to acknowledge them at all. 

The Silence Treatment was a Martin special, and was a tactic used quite a lot in her life. 

“Just answer the damn question Stilinski,”

Smirking, Stiles glanced at Scott, who rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and whispered “just friends?” knowingly.

“Scott and Melissa are here, but my gene donor’s still at work at the moment.” 

“Are you fighting with your dad?” 

Weird question. But Lydia Martin was a weird girl. 

A very weird, beautiful, intelligent, cute-

Ahem, anyway. 

(Stiles’ mind had a way of wandering off to other things, things that mostly involved a certain redh- no, a certain strawberry blonde).

“Of course not, why?” He played patterns on the arm of his sofa while waiting for her reply. 

“Nothing, I’m on my way. In fact open the door, its raining and I’m freezing,”

Sighing, Stiles dropped the phone onto the couch, glared at Scott who was shaking his head at his in-love-but-won’t-admit-it-anymore best friend, and swung the door open.

“Stranger Danger!” Stiles exclaimed, flailing his arms around, and sporting that infamous grin of his. 

Lydia swore he never got past the nine-year-old stage. 

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, something that had become quite a common occurrence around Stiles. 

“Star Wars movie marathon?” She asked in a bored tone. 

Eyebrows high, attitude higher. 

Stiles would never get tired of this girl. Even though she frustrated him to no end. Literally. 

He nodded, eyeing her up and down. Her hair was down, with two little braids pinned to the back, with little wisps of hair escaping, framing her face and making her look even more beautiful than usual. 

Stiles had no idea when he had started noticing stuff like that. 

But this was Lydia Martin. 

Ever since third grade, when she wore jumpsuits and two plaits for braids, Stiles had noticed, he’d remembered.

And anyway, old habits die hard.

Then, he noticed something that made him want to laugh and cry at how, well, Lydia she was. 

She was wearing shorts. Little cotton shorts, a lemon colour, with some pineapple designs all over them. 

Shorts and a tank top, with a pair of ridiculously long heels. 

In December. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Hey sweetie, I didn’t hear you come in!” Melissa was a sweetheart, always making sure they were well looked after. 

She looked at Scott accusingly, who shrugged with a sheepish look on his face. 

“She wants to study for an exam, and she wants Stiles’ food,”

Laughing, Melissa walked over to the girl, tugging the many revision texts and book out of her arms, and pulling her into a hug. 

Now, Lydia was a popular girl. Where she walked, people stared. She was talked about, and she was known. 

But she wasn’t used to maternal love, or even parental love for that matter. 

Her mother was a busy woman, who didn’t really have time to look after a teenage girl who was always just a little bit out of it when around her. Natalie Martin was no neglectful parent, she was just busy. And little Lydia had learnt to accept this at a young age, so when an adult figure treated her like her own parents probably should have, she didn’t know how to express that she was grateful. Because she was, she really was. 

She craved that kind of figure in her life, someone other than her friends to ask her how she was, to stroke her hair when she had a nightmare, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be ok. And Melissa was the perfect person to lean on when needed. 

“How was your day sweetheart? I’m making some macaroni cheese, and I figured you’d want to study in peace in Stiles’ room, so I’ll bring it up and you can eat when you’re free.” 

Melissa smiled; a warm, genuine smile, and Lydia smiled back, hugging her tighter, and whispering a quick “thank you” before going to rest her textbooks on the table opposite. 

Stiles and Scott watched their interaction with a soft, sad smile playing on both of their lips. 

Scott hated seeing his best friend without a proper home to go back to. He loved Lydia like a little sister, and his heart swelled with pride at how caring his mum was to her. 

Stiles always thought of it as treason, letting your own child feel like they didn’t have an adult figure to lean upon. On many a night, when Miss Martin was busy with her job, or on a date, Lydia had come round, cooked for Sheriff Stilinski and Stiles, or had munched on pizza while discussing quadratic equations, and those were evenings where Stiles cherished the unfiltered, graceful Lydia that he’d fallen for. 

He remembered watching with a heavy heart as Lydia visibly crumbled when his dad had told her she could come round whenever she wanted, that his door was always open, that he loved her like one of his own. He’d never forget the look on her face every time his father asked her how her day was, or if she needed extra sauce, or if she wanted some curly fries. It was of vulnerability, and Stiles knew it stemmed from an internal fear lodged inside her that prevented her from believing that Sheriff Stilinski cared about the girl. 

Though he did. 

He had done since Mini Stiles had wandered into the kitchen one day, an accident-prone, loud nine year old boy, claiming that he’d found his wife, and that he was officially, “in love, Dad, like the mushy kind!”

Stiles remembered the first time she’d voiced how terrified it made her feel, coming round and depending on Sheriff Stilinski and him to comfort and support her. He remembered cupping her beautiful, bare face, he remembered holding her as she wept, curled up in his arms, about everything, he remembered wiping her tears, and telling her that she never needed to be afraid of leaning on him, that he’d always be there. 

He remembered how she gazed up at him, with a look that he’d never quite forget; it looked like admiration, it looked like hope, it looked like love, but then again, he would never know, because he would never ask. 

He remembered it all, and he hated how vulnerable her lack of support made her, and he hated even more how she put on such a convincing show for everyone, how no one could see past her cleverly crafted mask. 

It was times like these, when he wanted to wrap her up in his arms, and hide her away from her demons, to rock her to sleep, comforting her and telling her that everything was going to be ok.

~~~~~

“So, what’s it today?”

“Well, AP Maths and Advanced Physics, but I’ll come down and eat with you guys,” She looked up at him as they walked up the stairs. 

“I mean, if that’s ok-” She always feared she was intruding when she came round Stiles’, though he made her feel more at home than she’d ever felt in her life. Something that scared her and comforted her all at once. 

“Lyds, you know you’re always welcome, how is that even a question anymore?” 

“I don’t know, Stiles.”

He looked at her, with one of those looks, and the somethings in her stomach were starting to go crazy. 

/

“Stiles,” 

“LyDiA,”

“How do you sleep here? It’s so...so MESSY. Does it not annoy you?” 

“Well, no, duh, otherwise I’d do something about it,” 

“God, it’s like- is that a mouldy sandwich?!” 

“No, you dumbass, that’s the filling leaking out. And before you attack me, it’s what I ate for lunch.”

“Well clearly you didn’t eat anything for lunch,” 

“Your point?”

“You’re a pig,”

“Well that’s just mean,”

“Yeah, to pigs,’”

Stiles glared at Lydia, who had a smug look on her face. 

“Right, let’s start with the flashcards, before you rip my head off,”

“Smart thinking, Stilinski,”

“I’m a smart guy, Martin,”

“Debatable at times,”

“Whatever you say, ma’am,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Ok ma’am,”

*****

After about an hour of Stiles mindlessly testing Lydia with the use of her flashcards, Stiles was now positioned upside down on his bed, precariously placed right at the edge, fast asleep. His mouth was wide open in an almost comical pose, as he dozed off. 

Lydia, on the other hand, was furiously writing down notes, mouthing and voicing her thoughts, completely unaware of the boy asleep next to her. 

*****

“Dinner’s ready hun!”

“Coming Melissa!”

Finally looking up from her notes, with a slightly glazed expression, Lydia’s eyes travelled down to Stiles, whose hair was currently messed up, and who looked like “The Scream” in real life. 

And yet, she couldn’t help but admire how, well, beautiful he was. 

Usually, Lydia would describe the male species as attractive, handsome, fit, or even cute, but there was something about Stiles that encompassed all of that and yet he managed to look so perfect that Lydia’s breath hitched slightly, just looking at him. 

She couldn’t help but notice the way his nose scrunched up when he was asleep, how his long, callous fingers were still clinging onto a decapitated chess piece, how the splash of freckles that were dotted over his nose and cheeks made him look so innocent. She couldn’t help but notice how the shirt he had decided to wear cut a fine form of his figure, showing off his forearms and toned stomach. 

Yeah, working out was definitely one of Stiles’ more beneficial ideas. 

Not to mention his hair which, compared to the boyish buzzcut that he sported all throughout freshman year, was a welcome change. Though the buzzcut Stiles was always a memory that she’d hold close to her heart; the lovestruck, slightly obsessed boy that could overlook her every flaw (and god there were many) and believed in her when no one else did. 

Not that he didn’t do that still, but things were different. She knew it, she felt it. 

At times when she felt like the world was falling apart, times when her world was falling apart, those strong arms were there to hold her, those words were there to comfort her, and those eyes were there to tether her back to reality. 

The difference was, they were now crossed between friendship and love, testing the boundaries, tiptoeing over the edge between romance and platonism, and Lydia wouldn’t give up her somewhat unique relationship for the world. She desperately tried to push her feelings away, because this was Stiles. This was her best friend. And she wasn’t sure if he still felt the same way, and she wouldn’t risk her friendship for anything. 

Because she was an idiot in freshman year, and she didn’t notice the boy in front of her, so ready to love her and appreciate her for who she was. 

She knew better now. 

“You’re staring,” Stiles mumbled, eyes still half closed. 

Lydia nearly jumped, and quickly tried to hide the look of embarrassment on her face, which she was sure Stiles had seen. 

Great. Another thing to add to the list of things Stiles Stilinski liked to tease Lydia Martin about. 

“Well, food’s ready, so wake up, sleepyhead,” 

The tease was affectionate, as Stiles slowly mumbled a “stupid decapitated pawn,” and stumbled out of his bedroom, Lydia in tow. 

“Mmmm, Melissa, you absolute legend,” Stiles bumped into a vase on his way down the stairs, where the mouth-watering smell of fresh macaroni cheese wafted up.  
“Scott, did I mention your mum needs to win Master Chef and become famous?”

“Many a time, in fact, I’m pretty sure you wrote a PowerPoint presentation about it when we were 8 years old,”

“Hmm, Melissa can you just move in with us? That would literally make all my non-panic-attack-inducing dreams come true,”

Melissa simply rolled her eyes, a fresh smile playing at her lips as she ushered in the two teenagers, balancing a huge dish of macaroni and hugging Lydia simultaneously. 

/

Mid way through their meal (which consisted of Stiles insisting that they all watch Star Wars while eating - “Come on Lydia, you can’t deny that it’s way ahead of its time and is by far the best series out there” - and Melissa blatantly refusing to sit anywhere near Stiles as he brandished his fork like a man possessed and commentated about the movie to anyone who would listen), a deep voice resonated through the house. 

“Hellooo, Stiles?”

Dropping his fork in haste, Stiles rushed to the door, only to bound back in, followed by a less animated looking Sheriff. 

“Look, Lyds, it’s the famous gene donor!”

“Stiles, just how many mugs of coffee have you had today?” Lydia was tempted to roll her eyes at his antics, but resisted the urge when his father was standing right behind him. 

“Coffee? Phhht, coffee’s for the weak. No, I chugged like 5 Red Bulls when I went to the bathroom, and I think that’s finally starting to catch up on me, but HEY LOOK IT’S THE PART WHERE ANAKIN-”

“Ok, big boy, let's get you settled,” Scott sighed, lurching forward and catching Stiles’ arm as he waved frantically at the screen. 

Melissa chuckled as Scott pushed Stiles into Lydia, who yelped and helped Scott get the resident “big boy” to calm down. 

“Hey Lydia, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Sheriff Stilinski’s smile was so caring and full of love, Lydia couldn’t help but smile. 

“Got a big test tomorrow, and I kinda study better with an over-excited 4 year old stuck in a 17 year old’s body, you know?” 

The fact that the Sheriff loved her like his own was something that had taken so long for her to come to terms with, and she still found it amazing just how freaking angelic the whole Stilinski family was. It made her yearn for Stiles’ mother; on the rare occasions that either of them would mention her, Lydia was astonished by how loving and carefree the woman sounded. 

Stiles pouted as he finally understood who Lydia was talking about, which made Lydia’s stomach-somethings go completely berserk, almost as if she’d chugged 5 Red Bulls, and not him. 

It was the lips. Those goddamn lips. 

“Lydia, come and sit with me,” Stiles pleaded, lazily patting the space between him and the Sheriff.

“Only if I get the blanket,”

“Of course, ma’am,”

Lydia finally gave in and rolled her eyes so hard she was surprised they didn’t stay stuck that way. 

But through the movie, her feeling of butterflies nearly exploded when he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. 

And his heart was racing faster than light when she curled into him, her head snuggled into the crook of his neck. 

~~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think, hope you enjoyed :)x 
> 
> and let me know if you'd want like a continuation of after Lydia (obviously) aces the test xx
> 
> Have a good day <3


End file.
